Loved from Eternity. D. E. Young

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      Loved from Eternity

      Copyright © 2017 D. E. Young. All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in critical publications or reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced in any manner without prior written permission from the publisher. Write: Permissions, Wipf and Stock Publishers, 199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3, Eugene, OR 97401.

      Resource Publications

      An Imprint of Wipf and Stock Publishers

      199 W. 8th Ave., Suite 3

      Eugene, OR 97401

      www.wipfandstock.com

      paperback isbn: 978-1-5326-0595-6

      hardcover isbn: 978-1-5326-0597-0

      ebook isbn: 978-1-5326-0596-3

      Manufactured in the U.S.A. April 11, 2017

      Foreword

      Recently in the worship of God and with His people gathered on the Lord’s Day, we prayed in song these words, so beautifully expressing the Gospel, fittingly communicating back to the Savior His own teaching that “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven; blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted, blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth, blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.” (Matthew 5:3–6)

      Not worthy, Lord! to gather up the crumbs

      With trembling hand that from thy table fall,

      A weary, heavy-laden sinner comes

      To plead thy promise and obey thy call.

      I am not worthy to be thought thy child,

      Nor sit the last and lowest at thy board;

      Too long a wand’rer and too oft beguiled,

      I only ask one reconciling word.

      One word from thee, my Lord, one smile, one look,

      And I could face the cold, rough world again;

      And with that treasure in my heart could brook

      The wrath of devils and the scorn of men.

      I hear thy voice; thou bidd’st me come and rest;

      I come, I kneel, I clasp thy pierced feet;

      Thou bidd’st me take my place, a welcome guest

      Among thy saints, and of thy banquet eat.

      My praise can only breathe itself in prayer,

      My prayer can only lose itself in thee;

      Dwell thou for ever in my breast, and there,

      Lord, let me sup with thee; sup thou with me.

      (Edward H. Bickersteth, 1872; The Trinity Hymnal, #428)

      And I was reminded of Dorothy.

      It is the philosopher, who from his place in academia, prescribes the big, but complicated ideas, that would rule in the minds of men. But it is through the artists-the screen writers, the music lyricists, the authors and poets, that those ideas reach the masses of common society. That is why Dorothy’s gifts with words are so necessary for our souls. She is not composing for herself; she writes for all of us—“weary, heavily laden sinners who would plead His promises and obey His call.”

      I thank the Savior for Dorothy. She sat in our congregation as one who hungers and thirsts for righteousness, who gratefully ate at the King’s table, and departed satisfied. (Shall I also recall that she was one who on Wednesday evenings at our home generously brought the food that refreshed our physical appetites?) No stranger to “the wrath of devils and the scorn of men,” she knew that she has a “place,” and is “a welcome guest among God’s saints and of His banquet may eat.”

      Having come to Jesus, like the Syro-Phoenician woman with exemplary faith (Matthew 15:21–28), she shares with us her travails of soul and the “rest” that comes to those who have “taken His yoke and learned from the One who Himself is meek and lowly of heart” (Matthew 11:28–30). I urge you to listen for His voice speaking in these faith-offerings composed for the sake of His bride, the church. May you know that He fills those who have been emptied.

      Rev. Dr. Stephen Jennings

      On Romans 9:3

      What Moses could not suffer,

      what Paul could wish, not do,

      for this, my soul, bless Jesus

      Who was cut off for you.

      A sinner cannot answer

      for any other man,

      but He Who bore our sorrows,

      He has, He will, He can.

      January 2012

      On the Burial of Jesus Christ

      You suffered Him to die,

      Your own beloved Son.

      You gave Him up for us,

      for every chosen one.

      You did not let Him see

      corruption or decay.

      You made His suff’rings end

      upon that awful day.

      He was not cast aside

      as if He had no worth.

      He had a burial

      within the kindly earth

      which He Himself had made

      and set upon its way,

      in honor laid to rest

      upon that awful day.

      So will You end for those

      whom You forever love

      their shame and their disgrace

      when they meet You above.

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